Leaks and Breaks
by mandaree1
Summary: When you're used to fixing your own messes, it can be a bit difficult to get used to others being willing to fix them for you.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Ducktales!**

 **Title: Leaks and Breaks**

 **Summary: When you're used to fixing your own messes, it can be a bit difficult to get used to others being willing to fix them for you.**

 **...**

It starts one rainy morning. McDuck mansion is, for all intents and purposes, much more structurally sound than the houseboat, but the continuous blows tossed at it from foes and monsters take their toll on its interior. Scrooge has a cheap team of repairmen on his contact list, but it's only natural that they miss the odd spot. Nobody's perfect, after all.

The boys stumble into bed at two thirty, weary but triumphant. The drizzle of water on window pane lulls them to sleep, reminded of days on the ocean, the rise and fall of the waves, when something very cold drips onto Huey's beak. His brow crumples, but he doesn't quite wake.

Not until the second drop, anyway.

"Hrm?" he grumbles, sitting up. Huey sleepily squints up at the ceiling. Rain drip-drip-drips from above, hitting his face and beak. Huey shakes it off and rolls out of bed, climbing down.

"Louie?" Huey tries. Louie snores in reply, wrapped up like a bug in his blankets. The oldest Duck sibling took his losses with a sigh, poking Dewey in the side. "Bro, wake up. Bro."

"Wassat?" Dewey cracks open a single blue eye. "Can't it wait 'till morning, dude?"

"It _is_ morning."

" _You know what I mean_ ," he grunts, exasperated.

Huey gives his shoulder an extra shake for good measure. "D'ya know where the duct tape is? We gotta hole."

"Oh," Dewey says, rolling over. "S'in the top drawer. Now lemme sleep."

"Thanks, bro." Huey presses a kiss to his temple, ignoring his brother's complaint of cooties as he climbed down. From there, the boy grabbed a chunk of cardboard from the move-in and the duct tape- which is bright purple; presumably a gift from Webby- before returning. Huey is not one for grace that early, simply jabbing the cylinder in the hole and taping around it before returning to his pillow, silently promising to properly patch it later.

From there, it escalates into the whole house. Louie, finding a break in a stairwell, shoves an old phone box into it and moves on like nothing happened. Dewey cracks a window and super-glued it to make sure they'd stay in place. A sink leaks and together they manage to shove a tampon so far up the faucet they doubt it will ever return. When a tub gets clogged, they bail it out themselves while trying to find a roto rooter.

Webby watches the last one from a safe distance, sitting cross-legged on the carpet floor just outside. "Why do you guys always do this stuff, anyway?" she asked, curious. "I mean, wouldn't it just be easier to ask Uncle Scrooge to fix it?"

"Why?" Dewey asks in return. "We fixed all sorts of stuff for Uncle Donald. Don't tell him I told you this, but he sucks at home repair."

"Which left us picking up the pieces," Huey finishes, handing the full pot to Dewey, who promptly dunks it into the toilet. "We know what we're doing."

Louie, up to his wrist in drain gunk, grimaced. "Besides, if we get grounded, I'll lose my soda privileges. I _need_ my soda, Webs."

Webby looked at all of them, confused. "Why would Uncle Scrooge ground you? You didn't break anything."

"We'd be wasting money," Louie said firmly. "And not on fun stuff." The youngest triplet's eyes lit up. He gave a great big jerk, and pulled back with a handful of gold coins, stuck together by various muck. The tub gave a gurgle and began to drain. "Found the clog!"

Webby stands, plucking the ball out of his hands. "Somehow, I don't think Uncle Scrooge will blame you for something he did."

"Maybe," admitted Huey, though he didn't look happy about it. "You really think he won't be mad?"

She shrugged. "He has to pay to fix walls and floors all the time. A little leak or clog probably won't even register."

"I _guess_ it wouldn't hurt to give it a try," Louie grumbled, grabbing the coins and turning on the sink to clean them off, hoping to pocket them afterwards. "But if I lose my soda privileges, I'm headin' straight for your juice, Webby."

"I'll take that bet."

 **Author's Note: It's been a few days since I wrote The Ducks, so I figured why not. I also really wanted to write this headcanon out. I just like the idea of these dudes being so used to helping Donald fix stuff they just kinda... do it. Also, it was really fun to finally be able to write Webby calling Scrooge her Uncle.**

 **-Mandaree1**


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